


Confessions

by Kirsteena



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-07
Updated: 2010-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 22:42:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirsteena/pseuds/Kirsteena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam feels betrayed, and this time he isn't going to turn the other cheek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

_"Shut up - I don't care!"  
"Sgt. Carling to you. Sir."  
"What I do regret is the day you walked onto my beat."  
"Now you might yet be my DCI, but don't think for one minute you'll be a **tenth** of the copper Gene Hunt was."_

He knew Ray hated him from the moment he set eyes on him. This only proved it. The knife goes in.

_"You're a good policeman, Sir. You taught me a lot. But it won't be the same without the Guv"._

Chris, you are a div. The knife goes in deeper.

_"How can I stay here with you? It's impossible. Spend the night with me Annie. Just once. No questions, no answers. Just you and me."  
"One night?"  
*pause* "I can't stay here forever"  
"I can't... stay for one night."_

Oh Annie, you were supposed to be the one who would do anything for me... you might as well paint a target on my back to make it easy for the knife.

****

Sam's mind was at bursting point. All these people, betraying him, pushing him away, all the time. All they were doing was turning him towards Morgan! His one chance - no, his last chance to get out of this hell hole and back where he was appreciated. Screw em', screw 'em all!

Sam stumbled out of CID, and half-ran towards his flat. Time to get ready to meet Morgan, pass over the papers and get his ticket out of this insanity. His door wouldn't open fast enough, and when he went to grab the papers off the table they scattered. Biting off a curse, he lent down to pick them up. Scrabbling under his bed, he groped around to find... a lighter. Perching on the chair, turning it over in his hand, he remembered Gene tearing CID apart that morning to find it. Birthday present from CID, he had said. He must have dropped it two nights ago...

Almost as if he were in the room, Sam could see Gene sitting on the edge of the bed, hunched over a cigarette. If he breathed in, he knew could smell the smoke.

_"Do you know what really sticks in my gullet? That I put a stop to it, all of it, months ago."  
"What made you change your mind?"  
"A rare attack of 'Do-the-right-thing'"_

Sam had known that Gene hadn't said it all, but looking at him in that rapidly fading light, he had read his guv's face, clear as daylight. *I changed because of you Sammy-boy, 'cause for some unknown reason - I had to*.

He hadn't thought about it at the time, but now, even when he shut his eyes, he couldn't get Hunt's face out of his mind. He saw those piercing blue eyes staring back at him, and it scared him. When had he changed? He was still fists first, ask questions later more often than not, look at the torture of Sykes that morning! But now, it was tempered with thought. How could he have made this man change? This wasn't supposed to be real, it was all a figment of his imagination! And what hold did he have over Gene that he had turned so far around? No, that was a route he didn't want to go down, as it meant he would have to examine his own feelings. Not now.

His eyes were filled with sudden tears. Home. Home was so close. All he had to do was take this to Morgan. It wasn't real, then he could easily betray them, after all, they had all had a hand in putting the knife through his heart. All except...

He sat there, still. Silent. Thinking. He knew what he had to do. Standing up, picking up the papers, grabbing an umbrella, he slammed the door behind him.

****

Striding into Gene's office, Sam threw his manilla folder into the waste paper basket. Hunt's head snapped up from the paperwork he was reading, and looked questioningly at his DI. Sam grabbed a stray piece of paper, and taking Gene's lighter, set fire to it, throwing it into basket. The pile of papers flared up immediately. The tape followed, and melted in the sudden heat. Finally, Sam put the lighter carefully on the desk. Gene cocked an eyebrow, waiting to see what explanation Sam could give for this lovely little conflagration in his bin.

"We need to talk - now."


End file.
